My Brother the Hero
by The Vicomtesse
Summary: A story focusing on Raoul and Philippe's relationship from Raoul's birth until the end.
1. Birth of a Brother

Philippe looked at their smiling faces and knew that he couldn't say anything. His sisters were overjoyed, but he was quiet. Another baby? Their mother was older now and he was worried about this. He was eighteen! And his youngest sister was already almost eight! They should have been more careful. Not to mention that there would be a crying baby to add to their already chaotic family.

As time passed he began to soften though. He saw how happy his mother was. She spoke lovingly of the little life inside her and she asked the family for names. She took the girls shopping to find new baby clothes, a crib, a rocking chair, all the things they'd gotten rid of after Josephine grew older.

But as she became larger, she started to spend more time lying down. She claimed it was normal, but he knew better. The doctor visited often enough to scare both Philippe and his father

One day, as he walked through the hallway to his bedroom, he heard his parents arguing and despite himself, he paused to listen.

"We never should have allowed this! This thing is sucking the life out of you and I cannot bear it!" His father cried.

"Don't you dare call our child a 'thing'!" She said fiercely.

"Darling, this isn't normal. You never had any such problems with the other three." He said seriously. "I'm worried."

"I'm worried too, Philbert. But this child is ours, and I will never be able to wish it ill, or that it hadn't come to us." She said softly. "I stand by God's will, even if it costs me my last breath."

Philippe left before he could hear more. She couldn't die. She kept their family together and they needed her.

Finally the day arrived. For better or for worse, their new sibling was on its way into the world. They heard their mother's yells and it seemed to go on for hours. She was in labor for a full day. Philippe waited nervously in the next room with his sisters and father. After an eternity they heard their mother cry out one more time, followed by a baby crying. "The baby is here!" Genevieve said happily.

"Is it a brother or a sister?!" Josephine asked eagerly.

Their father smiled and stood to greet the doctor and his assistant, who was carrying the baby. The doctor said a few quiet words and Philbert rushed past him into the room without a glance at the baby.

The assistant approached Philippe and the girls and said with a smile, "You have a new younger brother. He's very healthy." He handed the baby- who looked very squashed and confused- over to Philippe.

He took him but asked, "And our mother?"

His smile fell. "We don't know yet. I must go back." He turned and went back into the room, closing the door behind him.

"I want to see!" The girls insisted. Philippe showed them the baby and let them hold him for equal turns each.

Genevieve was holding him when they all jumped as from the room came a howl of agony from their father. Philippe's heart dropped. No!

A few minutes later a sad doctor emerged from the room. "I'm so sorry." The doctor said to them. "But your mother is dead. There were complications."

"Dead?" Philippe asked weakly. "Surely not..."

"I'm so sorry." He replied, shaking his head as he went back to the room. "I did warn her..."

None of them wasted any time running after him to see for themselves. Their father was weeping as he held their mother's limp body in his arms. The sheets were bloody. Philippe knew he would never forget the details of that scene. Nor could he forget how his sisters climbed onto the bed with tears in their eyes, begging their mama to wake up.

It was nearly a half an hour later before anyone remembered that the baby had been abandoned on Genevieve's chair. Philippe went to get him. He was still covered in the muck of birth, but it had dried now. And he was making distressed noises. Philippe picked him up and rewrapped him to make him warmer. Then he took him back into the room. The doctor stepped forward and said gently, "Your mother named him Raoul Philbert before she died."

Philippe nodded and then said, "Papa... Do you want to hold your son?"

His father looked up from his wife and stared at the baby for a long moment. "Little demon stole her from me!" He finally cried. "I want nothing to do with him!"

"He did? He really did that, Papa? Is he a demon?" Genevieve asked. "I hate him too!"

"Me too!" Josephine added. "I want Mama to wake up!"

"It's not his fault!" Philippe cried over the noise. "He didn't do anything!"

But his father wouldn't listen. He just held his wife.

And so it was Philippe who gave his brother his first bath to clean him off. And it was Philippe who dressed the baby for the first time. And it was Philippe who gave him his first meal from a bottle. And he cried the entire time.


	2. Inadequate

"But you promised!" Genevieve said, stomping her foot.

"I know, but Raoul's nanny is ill and-" Philippe began

"I don't care! You promised and it's only today!" She interrupted. "Mama would have taken us!"

And there it was. The line that always made Philippe feel trapped. How could he say no? The girls missed their mother terribly, and their father had been almost entirely absent since his wife's death eight months ago. The Comte had hired a nanny for the baby and went on a nearly permanent holiday, leaving Philippe alone to try to maintain order in the house.

Today, however, he faced a dilemma. His sisters were involved in a special Christmas performance for children at the church, but the nanny informed him that she was too ill to take care of Raoul. The girls would not hear of missing the rehearsal, and Philippe felt too guilty to cancel on them.

Finally, he concluded that he'd just have to take Raoul with them. It terrified him. He had no idea how to look after a baby in public! All of a sudden he'd become a father to all three of his siblings and he simply had to make do. He tried his best, but he was only nineteen. He should be at university with his friends, not stuck at home caring for his siblings.

He sent the girls to get ready while he went to fetch Raoul from his crib. When he entered the room, the baby pulled himself up on the bars and babbled at his older brother happily. He was drooling and smelly. Was Philippe meant to give him a bath before taking him out? Probably. He gave it his best effort and made a huge mess, but at least Raoul was clean. Raoul tried his best to roll off the table while Philippe dressed him. The child seemed to have a death wish, for when he wasn't rolling around he was sticking his fingers into things he shouldn't or trying to eat solid objects. This was exhausting and they hadn't even left the house yet!

Once Raoul was ready he and the girls made their way to the church. Halfway there Philippe kicked himself for forgetting the baby carriage stowed away in a closet. Raoul was in very good spirits though, babbling and blowing raspberries and making bubbles with his mouth as Philippe carried him. It made all of them laugh until they reached the building. The girls ran to find the instructor and he settled into a pew, trying to hold Raoul as the rehearsal began. But the baby soon grew irritated with being so confined and started to wriggle and fuss. Philippe spread the baby's blanket on the floor at his feet and laid him on it, praying that he would just lay still, perhaps even fall asleep.

He swore not even three minutes passed before he looked down again and Raoul was gone. Philippe bent in half to look under the pew and saw his brother's tiny feet as they crawled quickly underneath the pews. "Raoul!" He hissed, getting up to go after him.

The problem was that Philippe, being quite a tall young man, found it difficult to keep the baby in view as he raced to find him before he injured himself. He sighed and began crawling to find the little fugitive. "Raoul! Come here!" He said as he dove underneath a pew and managed to catch hold of the baby's foot.

The game was over and Raoul let out an earsplitting cry as he tried to pull his leg from Philippe's grip. But Philippe wouldn't budge. He pulled the baby towards him and his crying only got louder. By the time he had the baby in hand and stood up, he found everyone in the church looking at him. Both he and Raoul were covered in dust and Raoul was screaming in irritation, his face red. What was he supposed to do?! He wasn't a parent!

He took the baby outside into the cold courtyard full of statues to escape the stares and calm Raoul down. He rocked him gently as he walked, emotions filling him up and spilling over. "I don't know what to do with you!" He said, nearly as frustrated as Raoul seemed to be. "I'm not your father! I'm not anyone's father!"

Raoul was calming down, snuggling into Philippe's shoulder as he let out a few miserable hiccups. Philippe continued to talk, but he wasn't sure if it was to Raoul or to God now. "It isn't fair! You should have your mother! Our mother. I cannot be both father and mother to you! I'm only nineteen!" He collapsed onto a bench and tried not to cry. "I want my mother back, but I can't because God sent you to us. It's not your fault, but it's just… it's not fair! Why couldn't we have had a new brother and kept our mother too?! And now father… He isn't a father anymore! He's too drunk to care about any of us! He left me to care for the three of you and it's not fair!"

Raoul interrupted with a deep sigh as he fell asleep on Philippe's shoulder. His anger faded at that, leaving nothing but sorrow. Philippe transferred him to his arms so he could see his face. "I'm so sorry, Raoul." He said quietly to the baby as a tear fell. "You won't ever know your mother. Or your father, not truly. You'll never know what it is to be part of a whole family, and I'm sorry. I cannot give that to you." He paused, another tear falling. "I- I just hope… I hope that you'll be good anyway. I hope that you will be the best of all of us! I'll do the best I can to help you, but I'm not perfect..." He sighed. This was pointless. He gently re-wrapped Raoul so he would be warm against the cold December air. "I'm sorry." He repeated. To Raoul, to God, to himself. Sorry that he wasn't good enough, that he couldn't care for this baby as well as his parents. Sorry that all he had to offer was his best, and he felt horribly inadequate.

He stayed out for just a few more minutes to gather his thoughts and emotions, before he turned and went back into the chapel, prepared to be a father to all three of his siblings. He was all they had left now.


	3. Orange Christmas

*******Special Christmas Chapter. Thanks for reading! Merry Christmas!********

* * *

Christmas day had come and with it the giggles of the girls and of Raoul too, now age three. Philippe had arranged everything for them, as their father chose to spend Christmas away from home.

Now, as the day came to a close, Philippe was sitting on the sofa with his feet up, watching the fire crackle with a glass of wine in his hand. On the floor was the mess his siblings created with their new toys and gifts. The servants were having their own Christmas dinner now that the household was taken care of. It was peaceful, and Philippe reveled in simply being done with the day. He hadn't received any presents at all, but that didn't matter as long as his siblings were happy.

In the past his mother had made Christmas a grand affair at the de Chagny mansion. They held a Christmas ball for all of their friends and relations and Christmas day was filled with a huge dinner and gifts and music and laughter. Try as he might, he couldn't recreate that same feeling. Not the way his mother could, anyway. He'd arranged for gifts and for a dinner but he couldn't bring himself to host any kind of ball. And with their mother, there was no music. It felt as though music had died in their home.

He yawned and was about to drain his glass and go to bed when he heard little footsteps. Soon Raoul came toddling into the room, his new puppy following closely behind him. "Phiwippe!" He said, flashing that angelic smile of his. "Hewe! Fow you!" He held out the orange he'd received in his stocking in his small hands, urging his brother to take it.

Philippe smiled and picked the little boy up, settling him against his chest as they lay together. "This is for me?" He asked, holding the orange in one hand.

"Yes! Fow Chwistmas." The little boy said seriously. "I can't open!"

He laughed at that. The puppy tried his best to jump up onto the couch to join them, but he was still too little. "Puppy come up!" Raoul commanded. The little creature barked pitifully, trying his best to make the jump.

Philippe put the orange down and scooped the little dog up to lay with them. "What are you going to name your puppy?" He asked.

"Owange." Raoul said promptly.

"You're going to name him Orange?" Philippe asked, confused.

"Yes!" He proclaimed. "Owange because he little and he sleep like this!" Raoul curled up into a ball to imitate the puppy. And it did look sort of round, but beyond that Philippe didn't understand the logic in calling a dog "Orange". He didn't question it though, it was sweet.

"Alright. Orange it is." He chuckled, tickling Raoul slightly.

The little boy giggled and snuggled up against his brother, wrapping his arms around his neck. The puppy burrowed into the couch beneath his other arm. And Philippe knew that he wasn't going anywhere any time soon. "Did you have a good Christmas, Raoul?"

"Yes." He replied.

"What did you like about it?"

"Sweets! And Owange! And lots of good food!" He said happily. "Cook say I can eat all the sweets!"

He chuckled at that. "Only on Christmas though. Every other day you can only have a few sweets."

"Why?" The little boy asked with a yawn. That was his new favorite question.

"Because they won't help you grow big and strong." Philippe answered.

"Why not?"

"You know… I'm not sure. That's just what Mama always told me." He replied.

"You have mama?" Raoul asked.

Philippe's heart ached. "Yes. So do you."

"Whewe mama?" He looked around as if she might be a late Christmas present.

"She's gone, Raoul. But she loved you very much." Philippe said softly. "She would be so proud of you."

"Bye bye, mama." He said with another yawn.

Philippe nodded, trying not to tear up. He'd sworn off crying about his parents. Mama was gone and so was their father. Philbert de Chagny was only a shadow of himself, consumed by a grief and an addiction that would never leave him. "Bye bye, Mama." He repeated in a whisper.

Raoul didn't reply. He was asleep. But Philippe didn't mind, not one bit. The puppy now named Orange made little snuffling sounds in his sleep, Raoul sucked his thumb, and it wasn't long before Philippe joined them, dreaming of Christmases past and of the joyful music his mother used to play.


	4. Out The Window

As time passed, Philippe got better at being a father to his siblings. Their own father hardly ever came home, and when he did the visits were not a good memory for anyone, especially not Raoul. Philbert had no patience for the boy and unfairly blamed him for his wife's death.

And so it was Philippe who cared for Raoul and his sisters, and he began to take great pride in that. He sent his sisters to finishing schools and made sure they got lessons in whatever they wished. He stored away money every month for their dowries to ensure they would be well taken care of.

He made sure to take every care with Raoul as well. The boy was seven now and the light of their entire home. He was curious and cheerful and nearly always dirty as he roamed the gardens looking for animals and bugs and snakes. More than once Philippe had caught him smuggling animals into the house. He even tried to raise tadpoles in his bathtub once. He insisted on taking in every hurt or sick creature he found and cried when they died despite his best care. He and his dog- still named Orange- were best friends. Philippe, his sisters, and their family and acquaintances were charmed by his sweetness and happy disposition.

The time soon came for Raoul to begin an education, and so Philippe hired a tutor that came highly recommended, a Monsieur Charles Renault. He was a young man, freshly graduated from university, and while Philippe couldn't stand his politics he was supposed to be an excellent teacher.

Three months after he was hired, Philippe was sitting in his study writing letters when suddenly there came a knock at the door. "Enter!" He called, looking up from his letters.

A maid opened the door and said, "Monsieur le Vicomte, I think perhaps you ought to see something. It's Monsieur Renault… I cannot stand and be silent anymore."

At that Philippe got to his feet. "Show me."

He followed the maid to the room where the tutor met with Raoul and he heard crying. The door was open, and so Philippe stood in the doorway and watched for a moment. Monsieur Renault and Raoul had their backs to them, and the tutor had his hand on the back of Raoul's neck, pushing him towards a book. "Honestly, boy, are you really so stupid?!" He demanded. "I know the nobility were unintelligent but you've taken it to a new level!"

"I'm not stupid!" Raoul cried. "Let go!"

"You are!" The tutor insisted. "You cannot even remember a simple list of Latin words!"

"I don't want to learn Latin!" Raoul sobbed. "Let go!"

The tutor did let go but before Philippe could do anything he slapped the boy across the face, which made him cry harder. "You spoiled, ungrateful little-"

He didn't get the chance to finish. Philippe bounded forward and grabbed the man by the back of his jacket, throwing him across the room and pinning him there. "You dare lay a hand on him?!" He bellowed in a fury. "You dare to strike him?!"

Renault looked frightened. "I was teaching him responsibility! He refuses to learn anything!"

"I do not care what he does, you will never touch him again!"

"Fine!" The tutor said. "He's a spoiled little noble brat anyway!"

At that, Philippe lost his temper completely and with a single heave he tossed the man out the open window. It was only the first floor, but he wouldn't soon forget some of those bruises. "Don't ever come back or I will have you arrested!" He bellowed. Then he shut the window and turned to his brother.

Raoul was crying as the maid fussed over him. His cheek was already beginning to swell, a mighty bruise forming. "Has he hit you before, Raoul?" Philippe asked, kneeling down to his level.

Raoul nodded, trying to wipe away his tears. "Sometimes with his cane." He pointed to the man's walking stick in the corner.

"I can vouch for that." The maid said. "Poor little Baron! I should have done something sooner!"

"It's alright, Minette." Philippe said gently. "He's gone now. And as for this…" He got up and broke the cane in half over his knee, which made Raoul giggle despite himself.

"There. He'll never hit you again, I promise." He said. He'd never teach again either, Philippe would see to that.

"Does that mean I don't have to learn no more?" Raoul asked hopefully.

"I'm afraid not, but we'll find you a better tutor." He said.

Raoul sighed, but knew not to argue. "Can I go outside now?"

"Yes, go on. But absolutely no mud today! Aunt Catherine is coming for dinner!" He said firmly.

Raoul just grinned and ran out the door. Philippe knew that he'd be covered in mud by dinner time no matter what. With a half exasperated, half amused sigh he went back to his study and began to process of writing down what happened in case Renault tried to report anything or sue him. Perhaps he had lost his temper, and perhaps he shouldn't have actually thrown the man out the window… but he could not bring himself to regret it.

No one would be allowed to harm Raoul as long as Philippe was alive to stop them.


	5. No Matter What

The house was in a tizzy, maids running back and forth and the kitchen hot as hades as everyone prepared for the return of the master. Philippe was not at all sure how he felt about this, but he could do nothing to stop it.

A few weeks ago he'd received a letter from his father, informing him that he would be returning home for an extended period of time. Philippe took that to mean he was out of money, but his sisters were very excited to see their father. Genevieve was now twenty-three and was engaged to marry a Vicomte. Josephine was seventeen and quite the belle of every ball she attended. Philippe had to keep many young men away from her.

And then there was Raoul. At ten years old he was just beginning to grow. Philippe had no doubt that by the time he became a man he would be as tall as their father! To Philippe's exasperation he still insisted on trying to save animals and he had an entire menagerie in their barn. At least he'd stopped smuggling them into the house… at least that he knew about.

It was for his brother that Philippe was the most worried. He used to look up to his father, but ever since their mother's death he had been almost entirely absent, wasting his life on the drink in different hotels around Europe. The few times he did return were awful. Philbert blamed Raoul for the death of his wife and he treated him worse than a dog. Philippe did his best to shield the boy, but it was difficult. And with his father returning for a long stay… this would not go well.

Finally the day arrived and Philippe made sure his siblings were dressed presentably and waiting for their father at the door. As soon as he alighted from the carriage the girls ran to hug him. "Papa!" Josephine cried happily.

"Look at my girls!" He replied, smiling at them. Philippe could not yet tell how drunk he was, but he was tense as he stood beside his brother, who was watching curiously. "Look how you've grown! Genevieve I must meet this fiancé of yours, I need to give him a good scare."

She laughed at that. "He is coming to dinner soon enough, don't worry. And Philippe already did a number on him!"

Their father looked up, keeping his smile. "Ah, Philippe! It is good to see you, my son!" He came forward and, ignoring Raoul, embraced his oldest child.

"Hello, father." He said. He didn't smell strongly of alcohol, so perhaps he was not yet drunk. Perhaps he'd been too broke to buy any. Philippe thanked his good business sense that he'd saved most of the family money where his father would never see it.

"Shall we go inside?" He asked. "I've been gone for far too long and I-"

Raoul interrupted. "Hello Papa!" He said eagerly, coming forward to greet him like his siblings.

Their father looked at him, his smile fading. "Philippe, we must discuss the boy's education." He said without acknowledging Raoul. "He's twelve now, it's time he went to school."

"I am only ten…" Raoul said quietly.

"Silence, boy." He barked. "It must be discussed." With that the man went inside, leaving everyone outside stunned into silence.

Genevieve and Josephine patted Raoul's head as they went after their father, but Philippe took his shoulder, his heart breaking. "Why doesn't Papa love me too?" The boy asked his brother, looking down at his shoes.

"He- he is very… sick. Papa is a very sick man." Philippe said. "He doesn't know what he should and shouldn't love. You are doing nothing wrong."

He sighed. "I will try to be good. Then he'll love me too."

"I hope so." Was all Philippe could say. "Come, let us go inside for dinner." As they entered the house, Philippe again began to pray. He was so angry with his father for abandoning them and becoming so cruel and he hoped that living with them a while would help him see how good his youngest son was.

As days passed, it became clear that in this case Philippe's prayers were in vain. Their father spoiled his daughters with gifts bought on borrowed money that Philippe would have to repay. He raided their store of alcohol and depleted it within a week, then demanded more. Philippe had never felt so angry or so helpless in his entire life. Technically the house and the money belonged to his father, but if Philippe let go of any control his father would take it all and waste it. He tried his best to appease his father's demands while still keeping most of the money away from him. It was a delicate balance.

Worst of all was watching Raoul try to earn his father's attention and affection. The boy did everything he could think of. He made his father little presents of things he'd found in the woods or pictures he drew. He invited him to see all his animals in the barn. He brought him his slippers before the maids could. Each attempt was met with coldness and unkindness, or it was entirely ignored. It broke Philippe's heart and made him furious every time he watched his brother walk away from his father wilted and disheartened. He purposely kept Raoul away from their father when he was really drunk, because he knew it would only make it worse.

It all came to a head one night a little more than a month after their father arrived. Their father had gone out with friends and everyone was in bed except for Philippe. He had recently made the acquaintance of a lovely ballerina named Sorelli and he was writing her a letter in the sitting room while he waited for his father to return.

It came with a crash. Philbert burst through the front door and slurred, "Where is that good for nothin' spawn of the devil?!"

Philippe jumped to his feet. "Father, who are you talking about?" He asked carefully. He was completely drunk, not a whit of sense about him.

"The boy! The one who killed my wife!"

"No one killed your wife, papa." Philippe said firmly. "It was an accident."

"I didn't ask you!" With that he staggered up the stairs, Philippe on his heels.

"Go to bed, papa!" He said. "You are drunk!"

"I AM YOUR FATHER!" He yelled, waking everyone in the house. Philippe saw his sisters open their doors and watch. But then his heart dropped as Raoul's door opened too. "There you are! Come here, boy!"

"I- I do not want to, papa." Raoul squeaked.

"I SAID COME!"

"Papa, no!" Philippe stepped between his father and his brother. "You will not touch him! Go to bed or I will make you go to bed!"

Philbert stared at him with bloodshot eyes. "I should have killed that boy when I had the chance!" He slurred, drunkenly trying to get around Philippe.

"Papa what did I do?" Raoul asked, in tears as he took a few brave steps out of his room.

"Raoul, you stay the-"

"YOU KILLED HER!" Philbert bellowed over Philippe. "YOU KILLED MY WIFE!"

"I didn't mean to!" Raoul cried.

"Enough of this." Philippe took his father by the collar and despite his yelling and violent movements he pushed him down onto his bed. "Listen to me!" He hissed, holding him tightly by the collar. Philippe was heavier than his father and could easily pin him down. "You will leave. I do not care where you go or what you do but you are not staying here unless you can be civil to your son!"

"You do not command me!" He said angrily, but he was losing his fight to the alcohol. "That worthless boy is-"

"No. You heard me. You will be civil or you will leave!" Philippe said, tightening his grip.

"You… You do not…" With that his father passed out and Philippe just left him there. He was leaving first thing in the morning no matter what Philippe had to do to make it happen.

He went straight to Raoul, who was sobbing on his bed. As soon as Philippe entered Raoul ran to him and hugged him. "Did I kill her?" He asked. "Did I kill mama?"

"No." He said, kneeling down. "No, you did not. As I told you, Papa is sick. He is leaving tomorrow and he will not be coming back, I promise. He should not treat you like this and I am so sorry that I did not stop him sooner."

Raoul nodded, sniffing. "Thank you, Philippe."

"You are welcome. Now go to bed. Tomorrow we will go and do something, just us. How does that sound?"

"I would like that." The boy replied. He hugged Philippe tightly before getting into bed, and Philippe stayed until he was sleeping.

Enough was enough. Raoul did not deserve this and their father was no longer welcome in their home. Philippe again remembered his promise to keep all his siblings safe, and he would do so no matter what.


End file.
